Hochstetter Strikes Back
by 80sarcades
Summary: Sequel to 'What Is This Man Doing Here'  Major Hochstetter reenters our world and hunts down a certain author...


_**Hochstetter Strikes Back  
**__**by 80sarcades**_

* * *

_The second installment to **What Is This Man Doing Here?** I strongly advise reading that one first to understand the plot, or lack thereof, in this one. This story is based on a comment that my character made in that story. Hopefully, you'll get a laugh out of it (important for a Monday, you know:-). Thanks to **Sgt. Moffitt** for having a look!_

_Hochstetter returns! This time, he has an evil and insidious plan to force me to write for him. Ah, the Major has such high hopes…too bad for him!_

_Disclaimer: Does anyone believe these actually work?_

* * *

Sometimes, you just get lucky.

For starters, earlier in the day I had beaten out a speeding ticket. A ten dollar Texas lotto ticket had turned into a $50 cash payout. Better yet, my wife and kids were out of town. This meant, of course, that I could go to my favorite kind of party.

A costume party, in fact.

In hindsight, I should have declined the invitation. But then again, how was I to know that my luck was about to run out?

* * *

Personally, I thought I looked stunning in my WAC uniform. At least I had a better fitting bra on this time!

Most people at these kinds of parties dress up as their favorite fantasy or historical character. Some, like me, dress up as the opposite sex for these special occasions. Thankfully, my competition in this area is sorely lacking. At least I take the time to make myself look pretty. Then again, you would think that if I could put on makeup decently then other men could too. Instead, they look like overdone tramps!

Some of the women, meanwhile, dress up as men for their costumes. This generally falls into two categories: they either dress up as manly men - lumberjacks and the like - or, oddly enough, stockbrokers. Some of these 'guys' came over to the bar where I was sitting and bought me a drink. I was sorely disappointed with them, however. Here I was dying for a good conversation, and all they wanted to do was stare at my legs! Perverts!

The brushoffs I gave them were less than polite, yet the moths kept trying. I had just finished my second scotch and water when I felt something hard press into my back. My eyes narrowed; don't these idiots take 'no' for an answer?

"80sarcades," the harsh voice said softly, "we meet again…"

I didn't have to look far to recognize the speaker. The mirror behind the bar confirmed my suspicions: the voice belonged to none other than Major Wolfgang Hochstetter, Gestapo. And really, who would look that ugly on purpose?

I suppose he's probably ticked at me, and I can't blame him. The pistol against my back - what else could it be? - confirms that. Then again, if he was expecting for me to be terrified then he's out of luck. Instead, I merely smiled at his reflection.

"Well, Hochstetter, all appearances aside, I can't say I'm glad to see you," I dryly remarked. "However, I can tell that you're happy to see me…"

The pistol was hastily withdrawn as I broadly grinned. _Ah, Mae West_, I thought fondly. _Where would we be without you?_

"You shouldn't wave a gun around, Major," I said offhandedly. "This isn't Nazi Germany; you'll get arrested here."

"I think not," sneered Hochstetter. "Look around. Everyone is in costume. Besides, I don't believe anyone is going to come to your aid." His grin was positively nauseating.

Unfortunately, he's right. The 'guys' that I had brushed off earlier are now giving me the cold shoulder. I can't make eye contact with the rest of the crowd. Even the bartender is ignoring me despite the $20 I'm fanning in the air. It figures: if you're a damsel in distress, everyone comes to your aid. If you're a guy playing the damsel in distress, you get zip.

"How about if I call 911?" I countered. "Costume party or not, I'm pretty sure the cops will take a dim view of your outfit, much less your pistol." And if we're really lucky, the words 'police brutality' might actually take on a good meaning. Of course, I would have to testify for the boys in blue. I could just see it now:

_Honestly, Your Honor, those police officers did nothing wrong at all; I was there! I have no idea how he got those tire marks or who used his butt for a dart board. And I certainly don't believe at all that they would have strapped some earphones to his head with duct tape and made him listen to the Barney song over and over again. Certainly not!_

Hochstetter raised his pistol and pointed it in the direction of the crowd. "I could take your friends hostage and shoot them. Or, of course, you can cooperate," he said nastily. Oh, yeah. This is the evil Hochstetter we all know and love. My options at this point are few. Well, practically none.

Besides, I've taken care of Hochstetter before. He might have the upper hand now, but he'll always lose in the end. Or so I hope. Still, I have to try. With a air of resignation, I turned my barstool around and looked at the Gestapo Major for a moment before shaking my head in surrender. "All right, you win" I sighed. "What now?"

"We leave," he said. "Move quietly towards the door, and no tricks."

As I walked through the crowd I noticed several sneers and glares from the 'guys' as well as their friends. I suppose I can't blame them too much; they either think that I'm gay or have really bad taste in men. Honestly, with Hochstetter's looks, I'm really hoping they lean towards option two.

As we passed through the foyer, I stopped at a nearby mirror before opening my purse. Hochstetler glared at me as I freshened my lips with a tube of Revlon Sassy Red.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, what does it look like I'm doing?" I said, annoyed. "I have to look good if we're going out…"

"Let's go! NOW!" he said angrily. I sighed again as I put the lipstick back in my purse before heading towards my car.

* * *

Fortunately, it's only a short ride to my house. Which is just as well since the man stinks, literally and figuratively. I try to make some idle chitchat.

"So, Hochstetter," I begin in a jovial voice, "how they hanging? What have you been up to? Met any good ladies lately? Oh, wait, sorry..."

The major glared at me, but said nothing. To be fair, I couldn't fault him at all for that. Then again, I really can't see him with any woman. Unless she's blind, deaf and thinks rabid pit bulls are just _so_ adorable...

His voice, annoying as it was, broke my thoughts.

"Laugh while you can, _80sarcades_," he warned. "Soon, I will be the one doing the laughing. It will be your reward for sending that vicious animal after me," he smugly concluded.

"It was self defense!" I replied indignantly. "You were going to shoot me anyway!"

"I should have, if I knew what was coming!" Hochstetter shot back. "And what of your children? Those brats used my skull as a football!"

"Well, yeah, sorry about that," I said in sincere apology. "I was saving it for Halloween, you know. Then their ball had an air leak and went flat. To be honest, I was trying to save money. You know, with this bad economy-"

"Quiet!" Hochstetter interrupted. His eyes, tinged with evil, stared at me for a long minute before he spoke again.

"Do you know," he slowly began, his words tinged with anger, " what it is like to have your skin stripped away like paper? To feel unimaginable pain?"

"Actually, I do"

The response brought him up short. "What?..." he stuttered.

I pointed at my waxed legs. "You don't think these got perfect on their own, do you?" I said casually. "If you're wearing a dress, you might as well show them off properly."

Hochstetter just stared at me, uncomprehending, as I pressed on. "Not to mention that you have to keep these toned, you know," I commented knowledgably. "After all, slender legs always go better with a skirt. Funny thing, though: the ladies that yank the wax strips off of them always have this smile on their face when they do it. Not that I think that they're sadistic, or anything…"

"ENOUGH ABOUT YOUR LEGS!" roared Hochstetter, raising his pistol. "KEEP DRIVING, AND SHUT UP!"

"Okay, okay," I said in surrender. The rest of the drive passed in silence.

As we pulled into the drive I noticed that my office light was on. Which was odd, since I had turned everything off before leaving earlier. Hochstetter kept his eye and pistol on me as we got out of the car. I stopped short of the carport and turned around to look at the German.

"So Major, what's your evil plan?" I asked. "If this is about me writing for you, then you can forget about it! Don't you have better things to do, like pushing little old ladies into traffic?"

Hochstetter gave me his trademark sadistic grin. "I have taken precautions where you are concerned," he announced. "You will be more cooperative this time. Afterwards, I'll decide how best to use you."

In response, I made an exaggerated motion with my right hand before soundly slapping him across his left cheek. As he raised a hand to the red spot, I pulled myself up and looked him straight in the eye.

"I'm not _that _type of girl, Hochstetter," I said indignantly before I turned around and strutted towards the house.

I had barely gone three steps before the Major's hands roughly shoved me. Fortunately, I was able to grab the nearby brick wall before I and my high heels toppled over. A quick glance at Hochstetter showed an enraged face; all you needed was the red demonic eyes and it would be a perfect Halloween mask. Despite the angry look, I couldn't help but needle the man.

"Hey, watch it," I complained, then pointed down at my silk stockings. "You could have ruined my stockings by doing that, you know. When a guy gets a good pair he tries to take care of them as long as possible. And I only have two pairs left!"

Hochstetter raised his pistol again, then motioned it towards the house. "MOVE!" he yelled. I nodded and walked to the side door before unlocking it with my keys.

* * *

Once inside the house, I was directed to my office. Instead of being empty, however, the room was now occupied. An overweight man with a mustache sat on a stool next to my desk. Strangely enough, my laptop was already powered up; just what was Hochstetter up to?

Even worse, the man was eating my Club crackers! Could the night get any worse?

The Major, meanwhile, walked over to my comfy green office chair and sat down in it. A self-satisfied smirk crossed his features as he looked up at me. I narrowed my eyes in response.

_Note to self: Burn chair with napalm. Get new chair._

"Just what the hell is this?" I demanded. "And just who is this freak?" I looked over at the strange man. Somehow he seemed familiar, though I couldn't put my finger on it. "And don't go playing on my computer," I warned him as I wagged my index finger. "I've got my favorite episodes of the Simpsons on there…"

"Shut up!" Hochstetter interrupted sharply, then continued in a softer tone. "Your device is most interesting," he said, glancing at the laptop before giving me a smug look. "As I said, you will be most cooperative. We wouldn't want to waste this opportunity, would we?" he said with a knowing smile.

The Major then gestured towards his friend. "Dictate your story to Hans, and he will put it in your machine," he explained. "This way, there will be no misunderstandings." I barely managed to stifle a chuckle at his grimace of memories past. _Do you actually think I would send Taz after you again?_ I thought. _Of course I would! I'd throw in Pepe Le Pew too, but he might actually be an improvement!_

Instead of complying, I just stared at him. "Look, Hochstetter," I began, "if you want a story, have your buddy write it by himself. I've got better things to do. And if you're going to stay in the twenty-first century, I can recommend a really great plastic surgeon…"

"Enough of this!" Hochstetter growled, then looked at his partner. "Now!" he ordered. The man called up the word processor and typed some words into it.

"I'm not writing a story where you're the good guy, Hochstetter," I repeated, waving my right hand for emphasis. "You can go and…"

As I said the words, the world tilted as my voice became more feminine. A strange ripple coursed through my whole body before the room finally righted itself. A feeling of utter panic grew within me as I looked myself over. My large hands, for example, were slender and graceful. There was a strange cramp below my stomach, and my chest…

Uh, oh. I glanced down at the suddenly very real - and large - appendages that now existed beneath my uniform top.

_My wife is definitely not going to be happy about this!_

"Now then, _Fraulein_," Hochstetter said, emphasizing the last word with an evil leer, "cooperate and we will perhaps change you back…"

I ignored the rest of Hochstetter's self-satisfying commentary as I quickly walked over to the nearby mirror. What I saw took my breath away.

A woman's face, stunningly beautiful, stared back at me from the reflection. I actually looked better than some of the contestants on the Miss America pageant. And the hair!

"My God," I squealed delightfully in a female voice, "I'm gorgeous! I'm simply drop dead gorgeous!" I then whipped my long hair around several times before fixing Hochstetter with a glare. "And you can just drop dead, creep! " I said, giving him a smug smile. "I'm not writing any stories for you, now or ever!"

The Gestapo man leaped from the chair, his teeth visibly grinding. "You will do it, or else!" he growled angrily.

"Never!" I exclaimed, putting my hands on my hips in my best Wonder Woman pose even as I looked him in the eye. "I'd rather stay like this than make you the good guy. Besides," I added, "there's the silver lining you didn't consider!"

"What!" the Major screamed in frustration.

"I can now dress up for Ladies Night at the local bar without feeling ashamed! Just think of all the cheap beer I can drink!"

"BAH!" Hochstetter yelled. He raised his pistol.

Thinking fast, I sent my right fist towards his jaw. Unfortunately, his own gloved hand was quicker. His free hand caught my now-slender wrist in a tight grasp even as his face contorted in a demonic grin. Fortunately, his full hands couldn't stop my right knee from slamming into his crotch. Honestly, I usually feel a cringe when something like this happens. Instead, I now savor the feeling of satisfaction as I watch Hochstetter's face twist in utter pain. All I really need now is popcorn and a rewind button to make the night complete.

My victory was short lived, however, as the Major began to recover. My wrist, sadly, was still trapped within his steel vise. Fortunately, I was able to dig my high heels into the carpet before shoving him backward into the nearby bookcase. Although the impact merely stunned the man, it was more than enough to jolt the heavy vase that sat on top. Like a wave, it fell over the top lip of the bookcase before crashing directly on the Major's head and sending him into unconsciousness. I freed my hand from his now-limp grip and snatched the pistol from his other hand.

Hochstetter's buddy, meanwhile, was still sitting on his chair by the computer. As I raised the pistol in his direction, he finally spoke.

"There's no need of that!" he curtly ordered. My jaw dropped. What the hell? I knew that voice, but it was impossible! Then again, Hochstetter was on the floor of my office, so what was impossible?

Which reminds me: I really should thank the Major for helping me destroy that vase. I've been trying for two years to destroy that present from my in-laws; what perfect timing!

"Just who are you, anyway?" I demanded.

In response, the man reached towards his neck. As I watched, he peeled a lifelike mask away to reveal…

"General Burkhalter? You have to be kidding me!" I exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing here? And what's with the mask?"

Burkhalter looked over at Hochstetter and smirked. "I approve of the way you've taken care of the Major, though it appears that I have lost my bet," he said in his nasal German accent. "No matter; it was worth it!"

He then cast a leering glance at my 'new' body. "Although I have to say that I approve of the view," he remarked, his voice husky as he stared at my enlarged chest.

I lowered the pistol slightly. "Take your eyes off my pair, _buddy_, or you'll lose yours," I threatened. Burkhalter's face turned pale before his eyes quickly rose to meet mine.

"So, tell me," I said, "just what are you doing here? And who was this bet with?"

"I can answer that," another recognizable voice said from behind me. Turning around, I saw Colonel Robert Hogan standing in the doorway complete with leather jacket and cap.

Immediately, I was overcome with emotion. The pistol, forgotten, dropped from my hand as I rushed to the door, grabbed Hogan in my arms, and kissed the man on the lips.

As I broke apart, I really couldn't understand why Hogan made such a sour face at me. Oddly, he looked like he wanted to vomit! Honestly, isn't the damsel in distress supposed to kiss the hero of the story? Fortunately, the flask that Burkhalter offered Hogan seemed to do the trick; within a minute, he was back to his old self.

"You might want to get rid of anything you've written, Al," Hogan warned, motioning to the computer.

Burkhalter nodded, then hit the backspace key. Within a minute, I was back to my old manly overweight self. Hogan, strangely enough, still looked cute. Ah, well: easy come, easy go. Hey, that's one of my favorite episodes…

"You're late, Robert!" Burkhalter snapped, looking at Hogan even as his hand waved towards me. "He was about to shoot me!"

"He can't shoot you; you're a regular," Hogan shot back. "And where's my twenty?"

As money changed hands, I picked up the discarded pistol. "So help me," I raged, " if someone doesn't start talking, I'm going to scream! What's going on? And just why are you here?"

"He does a pretty good Hochstetter impression, doesn't he?" Hogan deadpanned as he glanced at Burkhalter. My anger exploded.

"BAH!" I roared. The pistol, which was aimed towards the ceiling, exploded in noise when I accidentally depressed the trigger. Unfortunately, the impact of the bullet against the ceiling tile sent dust and debris raining down on me. The daggers I glared at the two men failed to stop their hysterical laughter.

I lowered the pistol and started to chuckle myself. Well, it was funny…

"Okay, so what's the story?" I asked, my mood lighter. "You two call each other by first names? When did that happen? And what's this about a bet?"

"Settle down," Hogan ordered, then sniffed the air. "Nice perfume," he commented. "What is it? Chanel? Je Reviens?" he asked.

"Feminine Fresh, actually," I said with a poker face. Hogan nodded approvingly before continuing.

"After you took care of Hochstetter last time - nice touch using Looney Tunes, by the way - we got word that he was going to plan another attempt on you. That's where he and I come in," he explained, waving a hand at the German General. "We've been watching you the entire time."

"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically. "And what would have happened if Hochstetter had won?"

"He never wins. You should know that; you have the entire series on DVD!" Hogan said. "Besides, Al would have won the bet, and I make it a point never to lose money on a sure thing."

"What about the money you lost on Klink?" Burkhalter challenged.

"That was a sucker bet," Hogan shot back. "How was I to know he would actually get lucky with that woman! You, on the other hand, gave him that bottle of wine. An expensive bottle of wine, at that!"

"An officer is supposed to look out for the men in his command, even if one of them is named Klink!" the German smiled, pleased with himself.

"Oh, you can take your command-" Hogan began angrily.

"Guys, please," I interrupted. "Can't we all just get along?"

Both of the men stared at me.

"Okay, wrong decade," I muttered, then changed gears. "Much as this conversation is fascinating, what do we do with gruesome here? He'll really be ticked off at me when he wakes up."

"Not a problem," Hogan said. "Al?"

Burkhalter hunched over the computer keyboard and typed in a long series of letters. Instantly, Hochstetter vanished along with the remains of the vase.

"Cool!" I commented. "Just where did you send him, anyway?"

The General turned the computer screen to where I could see it. I paled as I read the electronic words.

"Oh, no…" I moaned. "He's going to blame me for this, you know," I complained. In response, both men laughed.

"That's the idea!" Burkhalter said, chuckling darkly. "Better you than us!"

I gave both of them the one fingered salute. _And God help me if Hochstetter comes back…_

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time Major Wolfgang Hochstetter regained consciousness.

Hot air and bright light assaulted his senses as he blinked his eyes and tried to figure out where he was. From what he could tell, the landscape was arid and dry; nothing but sand, rocks, and towering cliffs filled his view. The only evidence of civilization was a desolate asphalt road that stretched into the infinite horizon.

_Where am I? The desert? Which one? Where? Why?_

_That 80sarcades again! But how did he curse me to this hell? Have I been out that long?_

Turning around, he saw what appeared to be a phone booth located on the opposite side of the road. The building it was attached to looked abandoned, but cables still ran to the booth. Hopefully, the phone still worked.

_He must have dumped me in the American West! _

_I should have shot him while I had the chance, but no matter. The Americans in this world are nothing like Hogan; here, they are soft and weak. I will use them to get back to that swine, then I will make his life a living hell! There will be no escape this time._

_All I have to do is cross the road…_

The roadtop was clear in both directions. As he stepped onto the asphalt, Hochstetter noticed something curious: a bowl filled with yellow material lay in the middle of the road. A sign, sticking out of the top, had writing on it. As he looked closer, he read two English words: FREE BIRDSEED.

_What is this?_

Just then, a large bird - as tall as he was, in fact - suddenly appeared out of nowhere beside the bowl. Hochstetter, startled, reached for his empty holster. The bird, meanwhile, merely stared at the man for a moment before it began to eat the birdseed.

_I've never seen anything eat that fast!_ the Major marveled in admiration. _Just what kind of bird is this? Some sort of ostrich?_

Just then, Hochstetter's ears picked up a strange whistling sound. Puzzled, he looked both ways but saw no oncoming traffic. Then he looked up.

The Major had just enough time to drop his jaw in shock before a two ton red boulder slammed into the ground and flattened him. The bird, for its part, ignored the stone as it finished its meal. With a final glance, it leaped into the air, uttered 'beep beep', and disappeared over the horizon.

Although a coyote - this one a wily one - passed by later, the area was otherwise silent. Just then, a flat black object slipped out from underneath the boulder and skittered towards the phone. The remains of a hand, now balled into a fist, poked out of the top of the object; it shook back and forth as a tinny voice screamed:

"_I'll get you for this, 80sssssarrrrcadddeees…" _

_[fin/ende]_

_

* * *

_

**_A/N: Although I (a) do not wear dresses, even for parties, and (b) have no desire to be female, I can and will (c) poke fun at myself. Then again [monumental ego ON] if I were a female I would probably be the best looking one in town! [monumental ego OFF]._**

**_Reviews are always appreciated! I hope you enjoyed the story! _**


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